


Hell or High Water

by BuzzCat



Series: Rumbelle Showdown [2]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Rumbelle Showdown
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-26
Updated: 2015-04-26
Packaged: 2018-03-25 19:05:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3821461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BuzzCat/pseuds/BuzzCat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Belle has been dead for a year. Rumplestiltskin has done his waiting. And now, he has a favor to request.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hell or High Water

**Author's Note:**

> My second entry in the Rumbelle Showdown! Again, alias was ChicagoRed.

Gold stood in the graveyard. The headstone before him was new, compared to some of the others surrounding it. Just under a year old; a year since that walk on the icy docks. Sometimes it seemed like longer. Most times shorter, the way the grief would still hit him hard over the littlest things. The words etched in it were beginning to show wear. Rumplestiltskin waved his hand and purple smoke swirled around the words until they again looked new. He withdrew a rose from his inside jacket pocket and bent, placing it at the head of the grave. He stood and stared at the words again,

“I’m coming, Belle.” He turned and started the long walk back to town. The words still stared out from the headstone: BELLE GOLD, WIFE AND DAUGHTER.

 

Gold’s destination was at the edge of town, a street corner most avoided: the mortician’s. The front doors banged into the wall as he threw them open. Peggy, the receptionist, squeaked and clenched her hands in her floral dress. Gold walked up to the desk,

“Call him.”

“M-Mr. Gold, I’m afraid—“

“I have an appointment.” he said. Peggy nervously tucked a strand of hair behind her ear as she flipped through the appointment book. She laughed nervously when she saw ‘Mr. Gold’ written in red ink,

“So you do, so you do. I’ll just go—“ she stood and bumped her knee against the corner of the desk in her hurry to run into the office behind her. The door slammed shut behind her, the words ‘Kai Shade, Body Specialist’. The door creaked open again and a tall man in a dark suit said,

“Come in, Mr. Gold.” Gold stepped in. Shade seated himself behind his desk and Peggy stood in the corner, watering the plants by the window. Gold sat and folded his hands on top of his cane,

“It’s been a year since she died. I know who you are, Hades, I know the rules. I am making my appeal.” he said. Hades took a deep breath,

“In this world, I don’t know that the same rules apply.”

“Oh they do. You know they do.” said Gold, snarling. He had done his time, waited the required year to have this meeting. Hades shrugged, leaning back in his chair,

“It’s not up to me, anyway.” Gold’s face froze as Hades slowly spun his chair to look at a grinning Peggy. Gold’s gaze followed his and he was alarmed to see Peggy’s expression. She had a maniacal air now, transforming a friendly grin into a glittering mouth of fangs. She gently set the watering can on the shelf,

“Oh come now, Rumplestiltskin, you didn’t actually buy the whimpering receptionist act, did you?” she asked with just a bit of a pout. She stepped forward and held out her hand. The bright red of her nail polish suddenly looked a lot more like blood than it had earlier. Gold shook her hand, gripping a little tighter than strictly necessary,

“I’m here for my appeal, Peggy.” he growled. Peggy’s laugh tinkled like shattering glass,

“It’s Persephone.” Gold felt his stomach drop. He didn’t know how he’d forgotten this. Even he hadn’t wanted to cross Persephone in the old world. Granted, most of the old gods were people he didn’t want to upset, but Persephone made his snail-stepping days look the epitome of mercy and forgiveness. He held her gaze as some distant parts of him panicked. Persephone stared back at him, her mouth curling from her ferocious grin to something distinctly more smug. Without breaking eye contact, she said,

“Hades, dear, why don’t you go let Cerberus out? He’s already left enough spots on the carpet, no need to add another.”

“Yes, dear.” said the man, standing up and walking toward the door, “Will you pick up meatloaf from Granny’s when you’re done?”

“Of course.” she said. Gold heard the door close behind Hades. Persephone sat down in Hades’s chair, “So, Mr. Gold. Make your appeal.”

“I’ll owe you a favor.” he said. Persephone burst out in shattered-glass laughter. Her whole body shook and she wiped a tear from the corner of her eye,

“ _That’s_ your idea of an appeal? I ask no favors, Mr. Gold, because I don’t need them.”

“You’re in the funeral business in a very small town. I can’t imagine that business is exactly booming. I have a rather unique talent, pertaining to gold and thread. You’d never have to worry about money again.” he said. Persephone didn’t laugh again, but it was a close thing,

“First you want to owe me a favor. Now you’re trying to bribe me. This is not swaying me to your side, Mr. Gold. Try again.” Gold stared down at his lap. He had contingency plans, a great many of them, but as he ran through them, none of them would work on the piece of work before him. The grief hit him again. Belle would know what to do. He could scare people, he could manipulate them. But he couldn’t play with nice them, couldn’t even pretend to. Belle could do it. She’d befriended _him_ , hell, fallen in love with him and made him fall in love with her. She was the only one who could talk Persephone into this.

“I love her.” he said quietly, unable to look Persephone in the eye, “I love her. I lost her before.” No, that wasn’t right. He tried again, “I drove her away, for what I thought were good reasons. I thought she was dead for years. I thought I had killed her. And, and now I know I have. I suggested the walk by the docks. I…I killed her.” His hands were covering his face as he felt tears gather and fall.

“This is guilt talking, Mr. Gold. Not love.” said Persephone coldly. Gold stood and smashed his cane on the desk, breaking the cane,

“I KILLED HER! OF COURSE I DAMN WELL FEEL GUILTY FOR IT! SHE DROWNED BECAUSE OF ME!” he sank back into the chair, tears streaming down his face, “I caused her so much pain, and she still loved me. She made me want to be a better person. She made me want to try.” His throat was closing up with grief and he subsided into shaking sobs.  What he didn’t see was Persephone’s eyes glistening with tears, nor the quick hand that swiped away an errant tear. She cleared her throat and Gold looked up at her,

“People forget that my husband and I are separated often as well, not through our own choice. Many people also forget that the dead also have a say.” Persephone stood and for a moment, Gold was struck by how regal she looked compared to the shallow receptionist he’d met in the lobby. She continued, “Fortunately, Belle has made her own appeal, which was significantly more effective than yours.” Gold smiled at that. He knew Belle would be better, so much better, at it than him. Persephone swept to a door that he was sure wasn’t there moments ago,

“I grant your appeal.”

The door opened.


End file.
